Barriers Against Childish Dreams
by spritesinger
Summary: There's something about make-up that can make a person feel so very grown up, but for Susan there was more to it than that.


There was something about make-up, Susan thought, that made a person feel so very grown up. Maybe because it was a sort of tangible proof that showed she wasn't a child any longer.

Susan didn't feel very grown up as she looked at the pots, bottles and jars on her dressing table and wondered what she was meant to do with it all; she just felt very young. Her maid had simply carted in the . . . things before disappearing to go and find someone or something, she wasn't quite sure which.

Dubiously she unscrewed a lid of a pretty blue glass pot and dabbed a finger in it's contents. When she brought it away it was covered in a white lotion that smelled strongly of something floral. It was so strong, in fact, that it made her sneeze so she quickly replaced the lid. Not quite sure what to do with the stuff on her finger she cast her eyes around until she spotted a cloth. Grabbing it she wiped the lotion of her finger.

Unscrewing a few of the other pots she looked inside. Some contained other lotions and creams whilst others contained coloured powders. When she opened the smallest jar she found it was full of a bright red paste. This time when she dabbed a finger in only a little of the substance remained on her finger. Susan smiled, she had a feeling she knew what this was.

Rubbing the finger with the paste on over her lips she was rewarded by the site of them turning a deep reddish pink, not as bright as the red in the pot, but something much deeper than they normally were.

Pleased that she had managed to work out what one of the jars contained she sat back and looked at herself in the mirror. The person who looked back was the same , but also somehow slightly older, more sophisticated.

Getting up, Susan ran off to find Lucy. She had a feeling that Lucy (who adored dressing up) would love the new pastes, powders and lotions too.

OoOoO

An older Susan stared back at her reflection in the gleaming mirror as she finished applying the red paste from the tiny jar. Ever since she had first discovered make-up, applying that paste had been the favourite part of getting dressed in the morning.

As she applied it she smiled at the memory of the first time she had ever worn it. The memory always managed to make her laugh, partly because of her own cluelessness and partly because of Lucy's reaction to the stuff - she had hated it then and hadn't changed her mind as she got older. Susan would have to practically tie her to her chair to get her to sit still long enough so she could apply it.

Satisfied with her reflection she checked the amount left in the little jar before replacing the lid. It was getting low - she would have to make some more soon.

Susan always rather enjoyed making her own make-up. She liked the fact that she was wearing something she had made herself. It made her feel happy and content.

OoOoO

The face that looked back at Susan now in the dirty old mirror was still extraordinarily beautiful, but it lacked that certain something that had made it's owner the most beautiful woman in another world. In England the owner was harder and colder, and it showed to those who had known her before.

She finished applying her bright red lipstick and sat back. Her mouth looked like an angry red slash across a chalk white mask. It looked unreal and all of a sudden Susan hated it, loathed it.

Grabbing a wet cloth she wiped it across her face, removing half of the make-up whilst leaving the rest a smudged mess on her face. Again she wiped the cloth over her face but it only made the smudging worse, reflecting her confusion and anger and misery.

Susan knew that once applying the red paste was once her favourite part of getting dressed in the morning, but she couldn't remember when - now it was just a job that had to be done.

Unbidden a memory rose of her helping Lucy get ready for some party they were going to, but she couldn't remember why - she and Lucy never went to the same parties. Maybe it was in another life.

Two tears coursed twin tracks down her cheeks, washing them clean. She remembered in a game - or maybe it wasn't a game - that she and Peter and Edmund and Lucy had once played she had first worn make-up to hide her youth and inexperience for visiting kings and dignitaries. Then she had worn it because she loved wearing something that she had made, it made her feel happy and contented.

Susan hadn't felt happy or contented in a long time.

After they - she - had stopped playing the game she had worn it as a barrier to protect her from childish dreams and hopes.

There was something about make-up, she had always thought, that made a person feel so very grown up.

Grownups didn't have childish dreams about magical lands called Narnia and they were perfectly happy, weren't they?

Slowly she washed the rest of the smudged mess off her pale face. Her eyed were red-rimmed from a night spent crying but she just pinned her black hat onto her head and left, without the protective barrier of her make-up in place.

She wouldn't need them at her siblings funeral.


End file.
